Life, or Something Like It
by RaeC
Summary: SLASH: A day in the life of. An on going series. I've labeled this R even though all the chapters/parts of the story aren't. Each chapter is a story unto itself and skips around in time. I'll be adding to it as I finish incomplete parts.
1. Part 1: Found

Disclaimers: Not mine, yes I'm fully aware of that fact. Just borrowing them, and promise to return them to TPTB after they've been suitably cleaned, fed, and rested. Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes. No money has exchanged or will exchange hands. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story is SLASH. Do not read if you are offended by homoerotic content. 

~~-~~

Life, or Something Like It  
  
** Part One: Found**

~~-~~

"What if the Gate falls into the ocean?" Jack demanded.

"I'm willing to take that risk!" Daniel insisted. This was too important, too real to let go.

"I'm not. Lets go." Not taking 'no' for an answer, Jack grabbed his arm and dragged him from the room.

"Jack!" Daniel stumbled down the stairs, reaching for Jack at the same time. "Please." Daniel pleaded softly.

And Jack let him go...

~~~

Slowly, Daniel woke from the dream. Jack. How he wished Jack was here right now. Being his normal sarcastic, demanding self. If nothing else, it would be nice to have someone who cared if he died. Or at the very least help him find the Gate.

Sighing, Daniel stared blindly up at the sky. Where was *it*? How could it just disappear? Six months trapped on this planet with no way out. And he'd looked...everywhere. The Gate had vanished as if it had never existed at all.

It had been a one way trip to hell.

Violent rain, fierce winds, one gale force storm after another. A day to day fight just to survive. Daniel sighed again, letting his mind drift off. It was better than thinking about how much he hurt or why he'd been so stupid as to follow the boy through the Gate. His eyes followed the clouds, watching as they built up, layer upon layer not really paying attention. Instead he created castles in the sky.

Dreaming. Remembering. 

The look in Jack's eyes as he came out of the ocean. That one of pure relief, surprise, and thankfulness that he was alive.   
  
Daniel had been pretty happy to be alive himself. Nem may not have liked the answers he found, but eventually he let Daniel go. The whole time Jack never gave up, never wanted to believe he was 'gone'. Not even when Jack was packing out his apartment. Jack said that he almost gave up then. It had just seemed so final. And Jack called him stubborn?

Jack's hand on his shoulder after they defeated Hathor. Yet another mistake that Jack had supported him through. Damn, had Jack always been there? Forcing him to see what he didn't want to see? Accepting even at his worst?

The first beer he'd had in years, shared with Jack at his house. The look of irony on his face as he talked about the end of his marriage. Trying to think intelligently with his head spinning from the alcohol. That had been the beginning.

Daniel smiled fondly at the memories, plucking at the damp grass beside him.

Jack...Jack harassing him, demanding that he get a move on. Get up, move his ass, get going, keep going.

Daniel shook his head, confused. "Jack?" Daniel looked around trying to find him. Was Jack here? No, Jack couldn't be here. Daniel was all by himself. He just wanted Jack to be here. His mind was playing tricks on him.

"Did I hear my name?"

"Jack!"

"Yeah, Daniel, it's me."

"Okay, now I know I'm losing it."

"Don't worry Danny, I'll get you outta here."

"I'm not going to make it Jack."

"Yes, you are. Come on, let's get you on your feet."

Daniel laughed. Lord, even his ghosts were nuts.

"My leg's broke, Jack. I don't think I'm going anywhere."

"Daniel, I don't care what you think or don't think, get off your ass and move."

The air was heavy, wet, he couldn't move. He wanted to. Jack wanted him to. Thunder rumbled and a fat drop of rain hit his cheek, trickling down his nose. Rain. 'Oh god,' he moaned. It was starting again. The hair stood up on the back of his neck. First one drop fell, then another and another and another, the wind joining the mass of towering mass of clouds above him. Blue skies gone dark grey. then the rain hit hard, a fierce deluge pouring down.

Daniel tried to move. Tried to make his body listen to the voice in his head. He slid in the mud, the rain soaking him to the skin in seconds. Pain exploded as his broken leg hit a rock buried in the ground. He must have blacked out for a second because Jack was gone again. Did he scream? Hurt, run, hurt, run. He wanted to move but it was futile. His leg was on fire. It hurt to breathe. What did it matter? Wherever he went, the rain would always find him.

"Move, god damn it!" He was back. Jack's voice was growing more and more insistent. More angered. Did apparitions get wet too? If Jack were here now, he'd laugh...

"Daniel, give me your hand and get up on your feet. Fucking *move*." How many times over the last months had Jack been there for him? Even if he just a voice in his head. It was cold, so cold.

"I'm cold, Jack."

"Daniel. Daniel." The voice was pleading now. Maybe he should listen? Jack always knew what to do.

"Storm's coming Jack."

"Way to state the obvious, Daniel. It's already here."

"Oh. Yeah."

"We need shelter."

"Oh sure, Jack. I keep a spare tent in my back pocket."

"This is serious. Think, Daniel!"

"Like I don't know that? There's nothing, Jack. Nothing!" Daniel barely comprehended the threat, pain taking control of his exhausted mind, the struggle of being alone for so long finally taking its toll. "Damn it! What do you want from me?"   
  
Jack was silent for so long that Daniel thought the specter finally left him in peace.  
  
"Daniel, you have to move!" shouted a familiar voice in his ear.  
  
"I'm too tired. Just need to rest, Jack." He reached out, his hand trembling, only to have Jack disappear.  
  
"On your feet, Jackson!" The specter had moved to his feet. Danny raised his head to look at the vengeful apparition standing with his hands on his hips commanding Daniel's attention.   
  
"Go away Jack." He intoned bitterly. "I'm not going to make it and you know it."   
  
"God damn it, Daniel. I can't do this by myself. You have to help me."   
  
"I can't."  
  
"Jackson, if you are not on your feet and hobbling toward that cave back there in ten seconds, I'm going to shoot you myself where you lay."   
  
"I'll never reach it before the storm hits. My leg's broke Jack. Don't you remember?"   
  
"Oh for crying out loud! Danny, this is not a dream." Hands pulled him up into standing position.   
  
"Real?" Daniel shook his head trying to think past pain that exploded through his leg and chest with the sudden movement.  
  
"Glad to see you get with the program, Daniel, now lets move." Jack put his arm around Daniel's waist and they half ran, half hobbled for the cave.   
  
"Jack?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I think I'm going to pass out."  
  
"So nice...of you...," Daniel struggled to answer. "Wanted...you to know...," His breathing labored, Daniel tried again. "Thanks."  
  
"Just keep moving. We're almost there."  
  
"Jack?"  
  
"What now?"  
  
"I think I'm going to pass out." Daniel coughed, clutched his broken ribs, and blacked out. His last thought before his good knee hit the ground was to whisper 'sorry'. He never heard Jack's muttered oath as they fell. 


	2. Part 3: Don't Look Back

Don't Look Back…. 

   -- _The Devil held my hand and showed me_

_That which I no longer wished to see._

_And I stared with horror_

_At my image upon the screen_

_Twisted, shattered, torn,_

_In various shades of grey.--_

-------------

"Do you trust me?"

He nodded slowly.  It wasn't hesitation that slowed his nod.  It was more like curiosity.  A deep, burning curiosity that still surprised him after nearly 4 years of knowing the other man. "With my life."  

"This isn't just your life we're talking about here.  It's mine too."  

"Well duh."

"Come on, Jack.  Give me a break.  You know exactly what I mean."

"Yeah, but how much blood is this going to cost me?"

"Do you trust me or not?"

Jack sighed.  "Of course I trust you."

"Then would you just shut up and sign!"

"What am I signing?"

"I told you.  I can't tell you."

Jack leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest.  "I'm not signing it until I know what it is."

"Never mind.  I'll get Sam to sign it."

"Damn it, Daniel."  Jack reached across his desk and grabbed the paper before Daniel could get up and walk out.  He glanced at the first sheet unconsciously and stopped…too shocked to go on.  "What the hell is this!?"

It was Daniel's turn to sigh.  "Why couldn't you have just…"

"I am not going to do this, Daniel.  Forget it."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because?  That's not an answer, Jack.  I knew you'd be this way."  Daniel tried to take the document back but Jack leaned back in his chair keeping it out of reach.

"Uh uh.  You waltz in here, asking me sign this…this…" Jack's hands literally shook he was so angry.

"It's a Living Will, Jack."

"Why in the hell would I want to be responsible for pulling the plug?"  The paper fell unnoticed to floor as Jack rubbed his face.  "Why, Daniel?  Why would you ask me?"  He looked up.  "I can't do it."

Daniel got up out of his chair and started to pace. "Why not?  Jack, we face danger every day.  One day something is going to happen…"

Jack sprang from his chair and slapped his hand on the desk.  "Nothing is going to happen, you got that!" Jack glared at him, the anger just pouring off him in waves. What was he thinking?

Daniel stopped pacing. "I, uh…I'm just trying to be realistic."

Sighing, Jack backed off.  He really was overreacting.  "I'm sorry, Daniel."  Jack sank down in his chair as if his muscles just gave out.  "I…"

"Jack?"  

"Nothing.  Forget it."  Jack waved his hand and went back to work on his reports.  "I don't want to talk about it.  The answer is no.  Find someone else."

"Jack."  Daniel walked over to the desk.  

"What?"  

"The will?"

"Oh."  Jack looked around, spotting it on the floor.  He picked it up with two fingers, barely touching it.  "Here."  Jack flung the offending document on his desk.

Daniel grabbed the paper from the desk, hesitating for a moment.  

"What?"  Jack was beginning to get really irritated now.  He needed Daniel to leave before he lost it altogether.  

"We all die someday, Jack."

"I know that, Daniel.  But it's not going to be today."  Nor tomorrow if I can help it. 

Daniel walked out.  He didn't look back.

Jack let out the breath he'd been holding. He couldn't do it.  Wouldn't do it.  At least, not for Daniel.  He loved him too much for that.  


	3. Part 4: Forever

~~-~~ 

Forever 

~~-~~ 

"Hey, Daniel. Earth to Daniel!" Jack snapped his fingers near Daniel's ear. "You alive in there?" 

The man barely stirred, a slight hitch in his breathing the only indication that Daniel had heard him at all. 

"Come on, Daniel. Time to rise and shine." Jack tried again, shaking him roughly. The last few weeks had been hell, one mission after the other. If it wasn't for the fact that they wouldn't have any more down time between now and Sam's birthday, Jack would be right there with Daniel. 

What he wouldn't give to crawl back under the covers and spend the day surrounded by Daniel. Surrounded by the musky scent of sun and sand and rain. 

Jack ran his hand over the warm, firm line of back, shoulder, and neck, his purpose lost amid the display of bare flesh. He envied the way the sheet tangled around his legs and pooled at his lower back. Wanted, no, he needed to be the pillow Daniel had his arms wrapped around, as if it was the only thing holding him to this world. 

Sleep smoothed the lines from the corners of Daniel's eyes. His hair fell forward, a sandy curtain over his face in the brightly-lit room. This was one of the few times that Jack had the pleasure of simply looking his fill, no pressure, no time limits, and no constraints by society. Just them. 

It was the one thing Jack never got tired of doing; watching Daniel sleep. Perfect. That was the only word that came to mind. It seemed a sin to wake him, but they had a schedule to keep. Get in, get out, and be home by noon. 

He sat on the edge of the bed patiently and waited for the world to register with Daniel. Jack knew eventually that Daniel would realize he was being watched and would awaken. It was like a sixth sense with the man. How many times had lain there holding Daniel in the mornings, watching him sleep, running his eyes over golden skin, only to return to Daniel's face and find amused blue eyes watching him as well? He'd already tried shaking Daniel awake several times, had turned on the radio for the morning news, showered, and dressed. Not even the smell of freshly brewed coffee had penetrated the realm of whatever dream world Daniel currently inhabited. 

Jack tried shaking Daniel awake again. It didn't work; he just rolled over, mumbling incoherently, and fell back to sleep. A gentle caress across one stubble-coated cheek had even less effect, but Jack luxuriated in the feel. Touching Daniel was always special, something to savor, something that didn't come often...or often enough. 

It would be so easy to fall prey to that temptation, give in to the need to touch Daniel, to hold him. Forever would be just about right and still might not be long enough. With a sigh of regret, Jack leaned forwards, breaking the moment, and shook him again. 

"Come on, Daniel. Wakey, wakey." Jack brushed the hair off of Daniel's face, succumbing to the feel of warm skin beneath his palm again with a groan. 

"Hmm...?" 

Jack barely heard the muffled response, so quietly it was breathed. At least he was getting closer to breaking through to Wonderland. Daniel was waking up, slowly but surely. 

"Er...Houston, I think we have a problem." Playfully, Jack imitated the squawk of a radio, finally getting a response from his lover. "Come on, time's a wasting." Jack tapped his watch as one blue eye finally opened. 

"Jack, it's nine am." Daniel groaned as he glanced across at the clock. "The mall doesn't even open until 10:00 *and* it's Saturday." Daniel snuggled back down into the warm blankets, dragging Jack down next to him. 

Laughing, Jack rolled over, pulling Daniel into his arms his eyes roaming everywhere over the handsome face. "Come on, Danny boy. I just want to get this done and over with. And then we can *both* go back to bed." 

Groucho Marx had nothing on Jack O'Neill when he was determined to be ridiculous. One waggle of his eyebrow had Daniel hiding his face, trying to muffle a sound that somehow passed for agreement and laughter at the same time. With a quick kiss on Daniel's forehead, Jack pulled him into a sitting position before one thing led to another. If they started now, they'd never make it out the door. 

"Come on, Daniel. Rise and shine." 

"I'm awake. I'm awake." Jack let him go, but that was all Daniel was waiting for. He flopped back onto the bed, one arm thrown over his eyes to block out the sun. 

This was a contingency Jack had planned for, fortunately. It was time to play his trump card. Jack picked up the steaming mug from the nightstand, took a sip, then leaned down and kissed Daniel full on the lips. 

"Coffee..." It was a breathy benediction. 

"Yep. What? You didn't really think I'd come unprepared, did you?" 

A snort was his only answer as Daniel sat back up to take the steaming mug from Jack's hand. "You don't play fair." 

"Nope." 

Daniel eyed the sparkling eyes warily. "Something's up. What is it?" 

Jack laughed, the happy sound filling the room. "Not yet, but it soon will be." 

"Be serious, Jack." 

"Only if I have to be." 

Daniel rose from the bed on in one smooth move. He headed for the bathroom, his coffee clutched tightly in his hand. Jack followed along behind, appreciating the view. Maybe they could just relax for a while longer. 

"No, Jack." 

"*How* do you do that!?" 

"Simple." Daniel paused at the door of the bathroom to turn and face Jack. "I know you." Daniel smirked as he closed the door. 

"Damn." Jack snickered on his way to the kitchen, shaking his head at space monkeys and their apparent ability to read minds. 

~~~ 

"So what are you...planning on getting...Sam?" Not quite stifling a yawn, Daniel sat down at the kitchen table. 

"I have no idea. What are you getting her?" Jack handed Daniel his refilled cup, then sat down with one himself. 

"Something. I haven't decided yet." 

"Something?" Jack snorted. "I hear they're having a sale on that." 

"I could her a subscription to Physicists Weekly." Daniel smacked his forehead lightly. "Oh, but I forgot. Someone got that for Sam last year." 

"Yuck it up, Daniel, and see if you get any tonight." 

Daniel leered. "Well I fully plan on you being too tired by tonight, so it's not a big loss." 

Jack grinned and finished off his coffee. "I want something more original this time." 

"And you want to be home by noon?" Daniel burst out laughing. "How do you plan on doing that?" 

"That's why I'm dragging you along." 

"Oh, I get it now. If Sam doesn't like whatever you get her, you can blame it on me." 

"Yep. You got it." Jack grabbed his keys and opened the door. "Come on, let's get this show on the road." 

Daniel sighed, and followed Jack. It was going to be a long day. 

~~~ 

"Okay, how about this?" Jack held up a 'Property of Nike Athletic Department' sweatshirt. In bright green, no less. 

"Jack?" Daniel rolled his eyes. "Has anyone ever told you that you have the worst taste in women's clothing?" 

"A little pot calling the kettle black, Daniel?" 

"What?" 

"Those plaid shirts of yours." 

"Hey, they're comfortable." 

"Uh huh. Sure. So, not a good idea?" 

"No." Daniel plucked the sweatshirt from Jack's hand, dropping it back in the bargain bin. "I don't think Sam's the type to be owned. Nor the Footlocker type." 

"And how about you, Daniel?" Jack kept his face diverted as he searched through the clothing for something else that had caught his eye. 

"What about me?" 

"Are you the, ya know, the 'Property' type?" Jack held his prize up and turned to show it to Daniel, 'Property of the Jedi Training Academy'. 

Daniel sighed. "Jack, focus. We're shopping for Sam." 

Dragging Jack out by his arm, Daniel headed off in the direction of the Discovery Channel Store. "We might have better luck over there, don't you think?" 

Jack didn't look too enthused at the store's prospects. "Oh come on, Daniel. Sam's surrounded by this science crap all day." 

"Well, we might find something that would brighten up her office." Daniel shrugged. 

"What? The planets? The sun? The moon? The stars?" 

"Okay, bad idea." Daniel turned to find Jack swinging a snake in front of his face. 

"A rubber snake hung in effigy?" 

"Jack!" Daniel jumped back. "You know if I'd known you'd be this silly..." 

"It was just a joke, Daniel." 

"Not funny, Jack. Can't you be serious for five minutes? I thought you were the one who wanted to get back home by noon." 

"How about clothes?" 

"No." 

"Perfume?" 

"No." 

"Bath stuff?" 

"No." Daniel glared. "Don't you know anything about Sam?" 

Jack stopped in the middle of the store, staring out of the plate glass window. "I've got an idea." 

"Why don't I like the sound of that?" This time it was Daniel's turn to be hauled out of a store. "Oh no, Jack. Not on your life. Do you have a death wish?" 

Jack merely smiled and pulled Daniel into Spencer's. 

"You do have a death wish!" Daniel tugged on his hand, trying to pull free. 

"Relax, Daniel, live a little." The grin on Jack's face was *not* reassuring. 

"If Sam in any way blames me for this farce I will kill you myself, Jack." Daniel poked Jack right in the chest. 

"We've looked everywhere else; what have we got to lose?" 

"Our heads?" 

Jack attempted to look completely innocent. And damned if he didn't do a good job of it too. Daniel looked around. 'Well, it couldn't be that bad, could it?' 

"Hey! Marvin the Martian!" Jack slipped his hands into a pair of slippers, waving them in Daniel's direction. 

"What is it with you, Jack?" 

"What? You don't think Sam's the cartoon type?" 

"No, Jack. I don't." 

Jack wandered past the poster section. "Who in the hell are the Backstreet Boys?" 

"Don't ask me. I have no idea." 

"Why did I bring you along again?" 

"To keep you out of trouble and out of stores like this." 

They past the jewelry counter. "I don't think so." Daniel pulled Jack away before he could even think of stopping to look. The further they went into the den of sin, the more nervous Daniel got. Jack couldn't really be serious, could he? 

"Lava lamp?" 

"Maybe..." Daniel stopped to look at the coffee mugs displayed on the wall while Jack moved further down the aisle. 

"Hey Daniel?" Jack wiggled his eyebrows as he caught Daniel's attention. "You been doing some modeling on the side you want to tell me about?" Daniel turn three shades of red as the plastic penises began dancing at the sound of Jack's voice. 

"No. And I think I've had enough fun for one day. We aren't going to find anything in here, so what do you say we call it quits?" Daniel pleaded, practically begging Jack to leave the store. 

"But we haven't looked at the T-shirts yet." 

Daniel groaned. 'Oh god, not again.' 

"Hey look, Daniel. Something to go with Sam's bike." Jack held up a T-shirt. "0-Bitch in under 3 seconds." 

"I don't think so, Jack. Not unless you plan on dying right on the spot." 

"Yeah, you're right, suits Janet much better." 

"How about this one instead?" Jack held it up. 'Don't mess with the occupant of this shirt, suffering PMS and knows how to use a gun.' All it took was a glare and the shirt was returned to the rack. 

"No? Okay, last one..." Jack was grinning again. 'Property of Hugh Hefner Bunny Patrol.' 

Daniel covered his face, rubbing hard at his eyes. "Why did I let you talk me into this again?" 

"Because you owe me." Jack laughed and tugged on Daniel's arm, pulling him further toward the back. "Come on, I want to look at the rest of this stuff. It's been ages since I was in one of these stores." 

"Fine." Daniel sighed, knowing a lost cause when he saw one. He trailed along after Jack as he picked up item after item, taking great delight in tormenting Daniel with each of them; sex toys, weird glow in the dark lubes, body paint. 

"I think these are just about your size." Jack held up a pair of fuzzy handcuffs. 

"I give up. Look, you do whatever. I'm going to be over by the door. Get me when you're ready to leave." 

Jack snorted and continued looking around. He'd given up on getting Sam something a long time ago. Daniel just hadn't figured it out yet. Jack wandered back to body paint and flavored oils. 'What I could do with these and one willing body.' 

~~~ 

Irritated, Daniel muttered a litany of possible retributions as he paced back and forth, waiting for Jack. The man had warped sense of humor that he found extremely annoying at the best of times. Daniel dodged the midday shoppers as he marched across the walkway, trying to work out his frustrations and get back on track. On his way back across the tile flooring again, he caught sight of Jack at the counter bantering casually with the clerk. Maybe it was something in the tilt of his head, or the dimmer light of the store, but Daniel couldn't help but see the joy that literally surrounded Jack. It held him in thrall. 

It was like falling in love with Jack all over again. 

There wasn't any one thing that Daniel could quite put his finger on. He just liked being with Jack, talking to him, playing chess with him, and even drinking the occasional beer because it was something Jack liked to do...at a hockey game of all places. 

A loud banging startled Daniel from his reverie. Near the door a young teenage boy stood pounding on some contraption, cursing. Since he was going in the direction anyway, Daniel wandered over to the boy. 

"Problem?" 

The youth eyed Daniel warily and shook the machine. "No, man, I'll do it myself." 

A second later, a clang sounded as the item finally broke free. The boy holding his prize up for inspection. "See?" 

Daniel shrugged, already more interested in the machine itself. 'Make Your Own Dogtags, Only $5!' He snorted, 'What wouldn't they do to make a buck these days.' 

A man in full para-military gear modeled a set of standard dogtags but the machine also had several pictures of other types. One that caught his eye and made him laugh. 

"Girls? Want to stake your claim and let encroaching females know this one is taken? Give your male a 'If lost return to Jane Doe' one. 

The lost puppy routine. Oh did that bring back fond memories... 

Daniel being the lost puppy, of course, and trying to find his legs once again after that fiasco that was PX392K. Between the storms, his injuries, and his mind still working it's way through the shock of surviving, it was a wonder Daniel could walk at all. 

Oh, but he tried. The whole thing had nearly been a disaster. If it hadn't been for Jack...Jack who never strayed further than five inches away, he would have back in the hospital. 

The first time he had tried to negotiate his way into Jack's house, insisting all the while he was fine, one of his crutches caught on the door and Daniel nearly tumbled to the ground. Jack caught him, as he had dozen of times, but that one time was special. 

Leaning heavily on him, Daniel caught his breath, weary not only from the walk but also from his recent brush with death. Feeling better, he pulled away only to find that he and Jack had somehow gotten their dogtags tangled up together. 

Daniel had struggled to untangle them, but it only made it worse and in the end, Jack had to take his off, leaving a long chain trailing from Daniel's neck. 

"You look good in leash." 

Daniel had snorted, shuffled to the sofa, and collapsed. 

"One day you'll have one of your own, Jack. And the female that owns you to go with it." 

"Been there.." Jack chuckled. 

~~~ 

Daniel shook himself from his reverie... 

No, Jack wasn't the property of any female, just Daniel's. The Property of Daniel Jackson...that had a nice ring to it. Daniel stuck money in the machine. 

~~~ 

A whisper of breath stole across Daniel's neck just before a husky, 'Boo' was uttered near his ear. Chuckling, Daniel leaned back into Jack. "So, is Sam going to kill us or did your self preservation instincts finally kick in?" 

"Oh, no, this isn't for Sam. We'll think of something later." 

"Then what's in the bag?" 

"You'll have to wait until we get home." Laughing as he put the shopping bag behind his back, Jack peered over Daniel's shoulder. "Whatcha doing?" 

"Um..nothing." Daniel innocenly placed his hand over the display. 

"Then why are you hiding it?" 

"It's a surprise." A tiny clank hit the bin. Daniel reaching out to grab it before Jack could get a look. 

"Come on, Daniel. Give." 

"You tell me what you got in the bag and I'll show you." 

With a quick lecherous glance, Jack pulled out a bottle of scented oil. "Think you could do something with this?" 

"Oh yeah. Better yet, *you* could do something with it." 

"I like the sound of that. So tell me, what'd ya have?" 

Daniel snickered and handed over the tiny bit of tin. 

Laughing, Jack reached for the machine. "Hey, how's this thing work?" 

Daniel smirked. "Put money in it." 

"Gee, Daniel. I would never have figured that out on my own." 

"Just follow the instructions on the screen." Daniel tried to get a good look at what Jack was going to write. "So what are you going to put on yours...One Colonel in need of a good home?" 

"You're going to pay for that later." 

"Right." 

"Bite me." Jack ignored him and put money into the machine, shouldering Daniel out of the way when he tried to see what he was typing again. A few seconds later, the sound of tin hitting the tray signaled the machine was finished. 

"What? Can't wait until you get home." 

Pointed, Jack ignored him and concentrated on keeping Daniel from seeing what he was doing. "Sweet." Jack made another for good measure. Pocketing them both, Jack turned back to Daniel. "Ready to blow this Popsicle stand?" 

"So what's on it?" 

Sauntering out of the mall, Jack innocently jingled his pockets. "That's for me to know and," Jack looked pointedly at Daniel "*you* to find out." 

"Oh, come on, Jack!" Daniel trailed him, grumbling the entire way back to the car. 

~~~ 

"What do you want for dinner?" The muffled voice filtered down the hallway to the bathroom. 

Daniel stuck his head out of the shower. "Food!" 

"Real helpful there, Daniel." Jack leaned against doorjamb. 

"Well, what did you expect?" Daniel spoke over the sound of the shower spray. 

"Some help." Jack replied with mirth. 

"Well, what do we have in the fridge?" 

"Not much. Some steaks." 

"Any vegetables?" 

"I could probably make a salad." 

"So...go barbecue." Daniel shoed Jack out of the bathroom as he began to towel off. "I'm hungry." 

Jack snorted. "Yes, Master..." 

Daniel flicked the towel towards Jack's butt. "And don't you forget it." 

Laughing, Jack headed back toward the kitchen. 

Daniel dressed, tossing on some slacks and a sweater. It was just his luck that some teenager had walked right into him just as he was leaving the mall. Soda everywhere. All over him, the floor and the poor kid as well. But did Jack get splashed? Nope. Not one drop. It wasn't fair. 

Digging through the closet, Daniel grabbed his things, getting everything ready for work for tomorrow. They had a five a.m. mission ship out time. The end of the weekend loomed quickly before him. There just never seemed to be enough time. Packing his bag with extra clothes, he grabbed his dogtags. They felt different. Off. 

Oh no...he didn't. He did. 

"Very funny, Jack." An affectionate smile graced Daniel's face, taking the sharpness from his words. 

Jack looked up from the grill and laughed when he saw the dogtags in Daniel's hand. 

"I couldn't help myself. I figured fair was fair." 

"Cute joke." 

"Well, uh, no." 

"No?" 

"No. Listen, Daniel. You mean a lot to me. But the line of business we're in..." Jack faltered; he was never really good at this emotional crap. 

"Yeah?" 

Jack pulled his own tags from inside his T-shirt. "Look at them." Jack held his dogtags out to Daniel. 

Daniel wasn't sure if it was the earnest expression or serious tone that pulled him closer to Jack. Slowly he reached out, lifting the tags from Jack's hand, the warmth of his fingers sending a shock through his own. 

'Property of Daniel Jackson.' 

"This is how much you mean to me. I can't...always say it out loud or wear a ring or any of that other crap that people do when they commit themselves to each other..." 

Smiling, Daniel held up his hand and stopped Jack's little speech. "I get it." 

"You get it?" 

"Yeah I get it." Daniel pulled Jack close. His forehead rested against Jack's and he let his eyes say what his mouth could not. I love you too. 

"Yeah...me too." 

"So..." 

"Uh...lets eat. The steaks are going to burn." Jack brushed his hand over Daniel's check before heading back for the grill. 

Daniel stood there for several seconds, still awed by the sight of this special man. Who belonged to him. To whom he belonged. It even said so on his dogtags. Hiding in plain sight. Commitment, trust, love. Everything and all things. Something that said, I belong to someone, *with* someone. And well, Jack *was* right, once in a while. 

'Property of Jack O'Neill.' 

Somehow it just all seemed right. Even if it all had started as a joke, it was still the truth. Jack belonged to him, and well...he belonged right here, by Jack's side. 

~~~ 

The End


	4. Part 5: Until Next Year

Until Next Year 

--- 

"Jack" 

There's that voice again. I hear it everywhere. Go away. 

"Lets get you up." 

Told you, Dannyboy. Don't want to. 

"Jack, listen to me." 

What if I don't? You going to deck me? Ha! 

"Come on, Jack. I'm taking you home." 

Home? What's that? And how is it any better than here? Go away, Daniel. 

"God, you can be an ass sometimes." 

Only when I try really hard. I'm perfectly happy right here. Wallowing in my guilt. 

"Right, to your car. Where's your keys, Jack? 

"Daniel?" 

"Yeah?" 

"What are you doing here?" 

"Well, let's just pretend I'm your best friend and I'm taking you home." 

I can do that. Don't need to pretend though. 

"One foot in front of the other, Jack." 

I'm not an idiot, Daniel. 

"Almost there." 

Almost where? Oh, the car. That's right. 

"In you go. Seat belt, Jack." 

He's mothering me again. It's not too bad really. 

"Jack? Are you okay?" 

Damn, why does he do that? Just want to go home. 

"Okay, but you just talk if you need to. I'm here." 

Yeah, I know. 

I turn and look out the window, watching as all the headstones roll past. Today was too long. And cold. Just wanted it to end. So that tomorrow, I could put the pain back in it's little box, let it subside to a dull roar instead of sharp and focused. Some types of pain are like rain. You can't stop it, but then again why would you want to? 

Goodbye Charlie. Until next year. 


	5. Part 6: The Twelve Things I Never Said

~~-~~  
  
The Twelve Things I Never Said  
  
~~-~~  
  
Circa 2019...  
  
The youth watched from a respectful distance waiting to be acknowledged. Years spent studying the man told him his father was not even here. He was in another time, another place. Just like the Gate Room. The young man sighed, brushing long dark hair from his eyes.  
  
"You should just tie it back, Neil."  
  
"Sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to disturb you."  
  
"Just thinking. Are they here yet?"  
  
Daniel turned and for one moment, the boy saw the man his father had been. Saw the room flashback to a time when it's walls were filled with books and the strange trappings of many peoples and many times, hung on the walls. When his eyes shone with the bright blue of a summer sky instead of the haunted smoky depths he'd become used to over his life. Golden brown hair framing a laughing face in place of the quiet man he now knew so well. Then the vision faded away leaving only the father with an amused grin flitting across his face.  
  
"Uh, yeah. Just pulled up. You sure about this?"  
  
"Yes, very sure."  
  
Neil had to try one more time to reason with his father. "You would be more comfortable at home, surrounded by family. I could have your things sent..." Warm, brown eyes pleaded, 'Just this once, listen to me.'  
  
"I am home, son."  
  
"A lot has changed, Dad. It's been twenty years."  
  
"So you keep telling me." Daniel gave his son a brief hug, but this conversation was over. He was home...back on Earth. He tossed his pack on the floor and began to roll up the sleeves of his tunic.  
  
Giving up, Neil Jackson stalked from the room to greet the movers, his upset as always, short lived. By the time he had reached the men the sardonic grin was firmly in place. He had the graceful flowing movements of his mother, the bronzed tones of her people, with only his height to be attributed to his father, all six feet of him. But it was not his physical features that so endeared the youth to his heart. It was his keen wit, sarcastic comebacks, and loving nature. Dressed in jeans and light T-shirt, he acted so much like his namesake...Jack. So very much.  
  
Well, time to get to work. He might be 'gettin on in years' as his son liked to say, but there was life left in this old man yet. At fifty-five he still had the body of a forty year old. The only thing missing was his hair. And what was left...well that had turned grey within five years of moving to Abydos. The deliverymen coughed, and Daniel shook off his wayward thoughts, proceeding to direct traffic for the next three hours.  
  
~~~  
  
"Oh lord, am I glad that's over! I've got to run some errands then I'll be back later tonight. You need me to get anything before I run off, Dad?"  
  
"You know what I want?" Daniel looked up from the box he was currently 'excavating', an expression of remembered bliss on his face.  
  
"What?" Ice cream? Chocolate? Donuts? This planet was just full of the interesting things to eat and Neil planned to try them all. And if it had sugar, so much the better.  
  
"I want one *very* large cup of coffee." Daniel purred the word like some sort of personal mantra, a beacon of light in a storm tossed sea.  
  
Laughing, Neil grabbed his keys. "I'll run down to the 7-11. I'm sure they'll have some."  
  
"Hey! And grab some sandwiches while you're at it."  
  
"Sure thing, Dad. Be right back."  
  
Daniel picked up the ever-growing pile of personal items next to his leg and headed off toward his new bedroom. The apartment was nice in a sterile sort of way. Functional. Covered the basics, living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bath. It's not as if he would be entertaining that much, just Neil and maybe Sam or Teal'c once in while. After all, they were still around. It would be good to see them again. Sam was retired now, but Teal'c...he was still happily traipsing about the Universe. Commanded his own team in fact. And after Neil finished his stint with the Air Force Academy, he'd be working with the SGC.  
  
'Following in his father's footsteps. Well, not mine, Jack's.' Neil had the heart of a warrior and had wanted to go to Earth for as long as Daniel could remember. Wanted to be out among the stars, exploring, protecting, living. Going so far as to drag Teal'c off to the training rings on the infrequent visits the Jaffa had made to Abydos. As king for books from Sam so that he would be prepared for college. This is what Neil lived and breathed for and Daniel could only teach the active young man so much. It was time to bring him to Colorado Springs. Without Sha're's presence, well there was nothing to hold him to the arid desert lands any longer. Yes, time to go home.  
  
So caught up in his thoughts, Daniel tripped over a carton sending the items in his hands flying. "Great, just great." It wasn't enough that the apartment was littered with cardboard, but he had to add to the mess. Irritated, he ended up kicking a small shoe box that fell open spilling its contents all over the floor. Paper, odds and ends, and a single yellowed photograph scattered over the carpet.  
  
Shaking, Daniel reached for the box. It had been Jack's. Thought lost with everything else from Jack's house. Daniel found it hidden it in the furthest corner of his closet. Somehow he never found the nerve to open it after his death. Just left it behind with all the other memories he wanted to forget.  
  
And now, twenty years later, the wound was still as fresh and raw as the day he found Jack's body. He didn't want to know what was in here. It was enough that it *was* Jack's. A piece of him. His handwriting on the aging pages. Things that were important to *him*. Even after years of being locked away in climate controlled storage, the spicy scent of his cologne still clung to the box. In that moment, Daniel felt closer to Jack than he had in a long time. The way he did when Jack was alive. He could almost feel the warmth of Jack's arms around him. His lips against his.  
  
"Is that him?"  
  
Startled, Daniel fell back on his haunches, his hold loosening on the box once more. "Wha...What?"  
  
"Sorry. The picture...." Neil plucked it up effortlessly handing his father his coffee in the process. "Colonel O'Neill?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You look...happy. Good day?" Neil handed the picture back.  
  
Snorting, Daniel let the memories wash over him. "I looked like I was hit by a truck! I, um, was trapped on a planet, wounded and half out of my mind when Jack found me. After I got home, Janet had me on pain killers that made me, well, er, *happy*. And Jack volunteered to play nursemaid. For four solid weeks. Sam captured the whole thing in pictures."  
  
"Ah, blackmail." Neil leered as he sorted through some of the other things on the floor.  
  
"Um, Neil. Just leave it. I'll get it. You have things to do. Remember? Air Force Academy? Plane ride tomorrow?"  
  
"Uh, Dad? What's this?"  
  
Too late. Oh well, the best laid plans of mice and men. Daniel cringed afraid of what his son might be holding now. This little trip down memory lane was not exactly his idea of a fun.  
  
In his palm nestled a small silver chain.  
  
'Oh no, no, no, no, no.' The coffee fell from nerveless fingers, hitting the carpet with barely a noise. Daniel never noticed, his brain finally 'seeing' what had been in front of him all along. Three years. Three years of his life. Of Jack's life. Of their life, together. "I can't do this, Neil. Just put it away."  
  
"Dad?"  
  
"Just put it in the box!" Trying to distract his raging emotions, Daniel righted his coffee, dabbing at the minor spill with an old T-shirt. It could have been worse. The lid could have come off. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell."  
  
"Hey, it's okay. He was your best friend. I understand."  
  
No, he didn't understand! How could he!? Fire flashed in Daniel's eyes before slowly fading away. It was not Neil's fault. "Yeah..."  
  
"Um....Dad?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I..uh...I...ah...think you should read this. It's addressed to you." Neil keep his eyes glued to the floor, his face flaming as he handed the paper to his father. "And I think you really *need* to read it. I'm just gonna...go...do... something."  
  
"Neil..."  
  
"I know, I love you too. I'll be back later tonight."  
  
"Thank you." Daniel squeezed his son's hand tight.  
  
"No problem....Pops." One last cheeky grin and the young man disappeared.  
  
~~~  
  
That damn box sat in the middle of his bed while he finished cleaning up the rest of the room. The furniture polished, all traces of dust and grime, gone. The clothes, freshly laundered, folded and put away. The boxes broken down and tossed into the other room. All the while, the innocent little piece of cardboard tortured him with its presence. He stopped several times, sitting on the bed, his hand fluttering over the lid before jumping back up to pace the room and clean some more.  
  
He had to stop this. It was just a box for god's sake. Just bits and pieces of the past. 'Just gonna hurt like hell.'  
  
Daniel lifted the lid.  
  
'See, Danny Boy, the world didn't end.' So nice of his conscious to use Jack's voice over the years. Or when he needed a good smacking around. Breathing a sigh of relief, Daniel pulled out photo first. He'd left out a few very important details. Like the fact that the thought of Jack playing nursemaid still sent him into stitches.  
  
'You *had* to be there, Neil.'  
  
Jack, too deliriously happy to have Daniel back, tripping over things because he couldn't keep his eyes anywhere but on Daniel. Daniel trying to walk and several times they both ended up on the floor. The stolen kisses. The feather light touches. The sponge baths where they both ended up soaked and well, needing yet another bath. Especially toward the end of his convalescence.  
  
He put the photo to the side, lifting the aged letter out next. He had no idea what this was, but Neil said it was addressed to him. Something Jack never mailed? The words were nothing more than a spidery blur. Between the shaking of his hands and the water flooding his eyes Daniel was never going to be able to read the damn thing. Several steadying breaths later, his body stilled and the words began to make sense.  
  
Hey ya, Daniel.  
  
(Hey, Jack.)  
  
I guess if you are reading this I'm no longer around.  
  
(No shit.)  
  
I know you've seen this box a time or two, but I want you to understand what it means to me. What everything in it means. I hope that in our life together I finally managed to tell you myself, but just in case, this is my back up.  
  
(Oh, Jack...)  
  
The Things I Never Said (or said Enough).  
  
1. You are my life. Everything that was ever good and decent about me was because of you.  
  
2. You saved me, Daniel. Saved me from myself. Gave me my life back.  
  
3. You showed me what it really meant to love and be loved. And it isn't measured in 'things' but in how much you give of yourself.  
  
4. I belong to you. Always have, always will.  
  
5. I've never met anyone who gave me trust the way you do. It was always there, even from the beginning.  
  
6. And I always did love how your eyes would just light up at the smallest thing. Like when I took you out to dinner one night for no reason.  
  
7. How you never took us for granted. Always questioning, reminding, doing. Thank you for that.  
  
8. And did I ever tell you how much I admired your intelligence? Yeah, you were 'way smarte'r than me, but it was one of the first things I loved about you.  
  
9. Can't forget your courage. I've never met anyone who could stomach half the shit you do on the job and still stay sane, all without training. You are one brave man.  
  
10. Happiness is found in a box of Chocolate pudding. You make me do the craziest things.  
  
11. I love you, Daniel Jackson. I know I've said that before, but not nearly enough. So I'm saying it again.  
  
12. Finally, I'm sorry. Sorry for a lot of things. For the times *I* didn't trust you. Or for not letting you take things at your own pace. Pushing when I should have pulled back. And I'm sorry you have to read this instead of hearing it from me yourself. I should have told you long ago, I just didn't know how.  
  
Awe hell, Daniel. I'm no good at this mushy stuff. I know there's more. I'll just add them later.  
  
Always,  
  
Jack  
  
~~~  
  
Daniel folded the note, placing it back in the box. Now he knew why he'd never opened this box. Somehow it had never been the right time or it hurt too much. Filled with too many reminders of the past. The picture. A piece of fabric torn from his old robes. A length of chain from a set of old nipple clamps. Jack's sunglasses. A child's drawing saved from one of their missions, among other things. And concealed on the bottom loving wrapped in cotton cloth...a set of tags...the missing one from the set he had given Jack as a joke and one Jack had made himself. Property of Daniel Jackson, Property of Jack O'Neill, side by side.  
  
'Oh god.'  
  
Each a bread crumb into the private thoughts of a man once known as Colonel Jack O'Neill, his former lover, former lifemate. All the old memories came crashing down. The nights they fell asleep holding each other, loving each other. The dangers they faced side by side every time they walked through the Stargate. The fights. The laughter. Cradling Jack as he slept off the effects of yet another attack of some bug. Jack doing the same for him. The games they played with their hands when they thought no one was looking under the table in the mess hall. The silent touches of comfort and the erotic darting caresses designed to tease.  
  
Tears poured down his face as Daniel put the last of the memorabilia away. He tucked the box safely in the farthest corner of his closet shelf. These were memories of a time best left alone. It would never be a good time to take them out to play. It hurt too much.  
  
'I never meant to make you sad, Daniel. I just wanted to leave you a piece of me.'  
  
'I'd of rather had you, Jack.'

~~~

The End


	6. Part 7: Memories of a Lesser Year

~~-~~  
Memories of a Lesser Year  
~~-~~  
  
  
It was a day, just like any other; simple, light breeze coming off the coast, the heat climbing into the eighties. Locked in the endless cycle of an existence that repeated itself over and over again, with little to break the boredom.   
  
It was a song on the radio that started the drifting memories, the ones that couldn't help but sear as they healed. A soft Spanish melody wrapped in remembrances of a treasure nearly forgotten. A tiny erotic smile frozen forever in the stillness; a snapshot that time blurred more and more with each passing year. It wouldn't be long now before it all faded completely.  
  
His fingers felt numb from constantly carving the rock into shapes that only **_he_** could understand; the refuse falling as tiny bits of sand into the murky waters of the deep blue sea, so fine was his touch. A hand which had once been master to the greatest silk ever known to man. His fingers gliding over its surface, noting every dip, every nook, every blemish, memorized with care, unerringly lingering over each imperfection, loving it all the more because of them. The heat that would rise, mimicking the cries of its creator as his art spun out of control, writhing, spinning, sighing. Perfection. The gift once embedded into the swirls of his fingertips, the ghost of its touch lasting until he could no longer control the wanting and once again fell into need to touch.  
  
Now all his hands held was cold, deadened stone that failed to come to life. His fingers numb from the chill, callused from repeated handling of the course mineral. The fluid grace which he once commanded, dancing across the folds and valleys, forgotten as his fingers took up the rock, preparing to sluice away yet another grain to try and find the beauty hidden beneath. And still the sparkling rock mocked his attempts to make it live, keeping its secrets to itself.   
  
Dropping the stone into the water, the man plodded across the beach toward his home of the last twenty five years. Twenty five long years of waiting for the magic to return. Waiting, and waiting, knowing that one day it would come again. So he waited. Alone. Locked in his gilded prison, hands empty, the sense memory faded to nothing.  
  
He could no more cling to the magic, than it could to him. Not when he did not live. But he could remember. Remember what it was like when he did. Remember what *life* had once smelled like.  
  
Like spring. Freshly mown grass, and wheat rising from a newly sowed field. A warm, gentle rain coating his skin, kissing the bare patches, revitalizing, invigorating, adding years onto his life. The magic smelled like sweat, and heat, and love, and more. All tumbling over each other to be the first to be felt, smelt, and tasted once again. The bitter morsels flooded his tongue. This is what it meant to leave someone behind.   
  
And once upon a time, the magic had a name...  
  
A tear slid from the corner of his eye, making a path for the others to follow. One after the other, nary a sound did he make as they rolled down his cheeks in silent surrender to the song of pain. Simply let the words of the ballad flow over him as he stood staring at the offending instrument willing it to silence. It was so much easier to bear this waiting in silence, or in the haunting strains of Led Zeppelin, but not this...not this one song did he ever want to hear again. At least not until time resumed its march across the universe and the waiting complete.  
  
He never felt the arms surround him, hold him within their embrace. Never felt the brush of lips across his nape, for he was too numb with the passing of years, and the brush of memory. Never heard the sound of his name, so lost was he in the past. So the other merely held on as the tune played out, and played yet again. By the third rendition, the man was shaking, only the strength of the other's arms keeping him upright.   
  
Pulling himself free from the captivity of the cobwebs of the past, he stumbled blindly for the solace of his room, collapsing haphazardly on the bed. Still he was silent, with only the sound of his harsh, broken breathing filling the air. A hand lay on his hip unnoticed.   
  
As the man settled, the song filtered in from the porch, playing yet again in some sort of weird self-designed hell. A melody he hadn't heard since the day when the fire had burnt out, leaving only the tiny ember of hope to burn brightly in his chest. And that spark blazed, full tilt, demanding attention. He ignored it in favor of rolling over, an arm tossed across his eyes, as image after image played across his internal movie screen.   
  
Slowly his body awoke. Inch, by inch, it responded. Ghosts of the past arose, slowing the picture show to a crawl, entertaining the here and now, with what had already gone. Hands ran up his bare skin. Very male, very masculine hands, well beloved, the memory sharp and clear, the long fingers stopping to tease at the waist band of his shorts. He sucked in a breath as the fingers brushed across his stomach, before they pulled his shorts over his hips and slipped them off slowly, so very slowly, taking away the only barrier between now and then.   
  
And those hands began to create magic. Touching, caressing, loving. Begging as much as they gave. Making his skin spark, come alive, his hair raising just before those fingers lit upon the curve of his neck, following the path down along his shoulder, to his chest, tracing one nipple, then the other. Lower and lower into the dip of hip, following the trail to his groin where his cock, full to the point of pain, begged to be held in an iron grip.   
  
Denied his pleasure, the man thrashed on the bed, tormented by his dream lover. Instead the feather-light caress fell lower, barely letting the passing caress touch the heavy sacks of his balls. Sucking in yet another breath, the man raised his knees, knowing, wanting and needing what his lover demanded. Entrance to his body. It was a familiar torment.   
  
He lay exposed before the heated, brilliant gaze in his mind.   
  
Too afraid to move, too afraid to touch, lest he chase away this fervent desire, he let himself float in the magic, the Spanish guitar an accompaniment to his pleasure/pain. He laid open, nothing hidden, not his desire, not his want, not his willing surrender.   
  
Waiting.   
  
Waiting.   
  
Waiting for that needed touch. He could feel it building, higher and higher. He was going to explode. A hot breath feel across his groin just before the burn of a tongue licked along the crease of his ass, up over his balls, and along his cock. He nearly fell off the bed at the intimate touch, arching up, trying to follow the retreating mouth, wanting more. A chuckle floated in the tide of desire.   
  
He needed...  
  
He wanted...  
  
He needed to be...filled...  
  
Slowly, slowly, slowly, he was given it. Slick, hard flesh entered him.   
  
He wanted...  
  
Magic. A name floated in the ether unspoken, terrified that the spell would be broken and this feeling of being filled, of being taken, owned, possessed, needed, wanted....loved...would disappear. He rocked forward, taking his lover deeper within, deeper until flesh met flesh. And it was **_flesh_**, fire in motion. His hands rose...felt it hovering just under his fingertips, slick, sweating with suppressed need, shaking.   
  
He touched life. He touched silk. He felt...  
  
He opened his eyes and saw. Real. Alive. As dark and as passionate as his sea...waiting. Waiting for *him*. Waiting for him to awake.   
  
Heat. Incredible heat filling him. Screaming internally, an inferno erupting into each cell, heat pulsing through his blood, marking him forever.   
  
The cold disappeared when faced with the fiery storm. Heady musk rose from his partner, the scent of sex surrounded him, enfolding him in its long forgotten embrace.   
  
The man breathed.   
  
The apparition spoke, that beloved erotic smile tugging at his heart. "Took your sweet time."   
  
"You're real..." And he spoke no more, his mouth buried in the taste of his lover, his hands coming alive playing along the familiar hard planes. His lover moaned as his hands found the tiny imperfections. His fingers not only remembering the magic, but sang with it. Pulsing into him as he found his lover's nipples and took one into his mouth. Sucking, nipping, gently scrapping along the sensitized flesh with his teeth as his mate arched up and entered him hard.   
  
His hand tugged at the sun kissed hair in his hands, pulling the man closer to him, to his mouth, seeking the well remembered taste. Wanting this, needing this reconnection of spirit. Drawing the man down, down, down, until his lips hovered mere millimeters above his own, sharing the same space, the same air.   
  
"Mine." And he took his lover, raising his hips, thrusting himself on his partner, their moans spiraling into his throat, becoming one in the same, passing from man to man. Sharing the same voice as they shared the same heart, the same breath, the same soul. Parting slightly, only to sink back together, the flesh willing, wanting, beating together. Reaching for the edge together after so long alone. Pulsing, writhing, spinning out of control into one last cry...  
  
Magic.  
  
"Daniel."  
  
Finally.  
  
~~~  
  
The End 


End file.
